One Day

“Marigold, Marigold,” someone called out to her.

“Yes,” Marigold, snapped back to the present, turning to an older women, Mrs. Birdie, one of the salesclerks that now worked for her.

“A young lady here,” Mrs. Birdie pointed to the young lady standing next to her, “is looking for a dress for a wedding. Do we have anything on her size?”

“Oh, yes, certainly,” Marigold responded, turned to Stony, the young clerk she had hired to attend the front desk. “You’ll be okay?”

Stony nodded yes. Stony barely said much, and rarely smiled, but she was young and pretty, something Mona would approve. Though, Mona would have opposed against hiring Mrs. Birdie, because she was older, short, and a bit on the plump side. But, Mrs. Birdie was nice, and was good at selling dresses. She had a childlike voice, which chirped when she was in very high spirits. But, Marigold ran the shop now, while Mona had taken a permanent leave of absence. For some reason, Mona did not want to be part of the shop anymore and preferred to stay home.

In Mona’s absence, the shop had grown and Marigold had added more people to work at the shop. That included five salesclerk, one front desk girl, three seamstress and another female employee who’s job was to maintain a control of the goods that they used to make the dresses. None had met the original founder of the store, Mona who’s idea had helped flourish the boutique. Marigold, could barely handle the demand, but she kept everything in control and loved the challenge the job gave her. Her seamstresses were busy all the time, and that satisfied her, which meant sales were up. Eventually, they got overloaded by many interest that they only did appointments, with a three week waiting period, as they quickly filled up their schedules.

Marigold was in good spirits, she believed if she staid happy it made working hard a breeze, especially when they were in rush conditions. Marigold was quick to sow a dress, faster than her seamstresses, and knew all the dresses, where it was located in the back room and the cost. She guided Mrs. Birdie and the young lady to that room. Each dress had a purpose, each one was meant for a different occasion, each for different sizes, and for distinct body types. She took them to the back row for the perfect dress that didn’t come cheap. If they didn’t have it, they customized the dress, also for a high price, of course.

“All the dresses are customized here,” Marigold explained to the young lady. “We make sure the right dress is made for the right girl. A dress can make a girl look pretty or unflattering. A girl will always find a perfect dress, but it doesn’t mean the dress is made for the girl. We like to transform people, make them look beautiful.”

Marigold found the dress and showed it to the young lady. She pulled out three more and handed them to Mrs. Birdie, who took the young lady to one of the dressing rooms. Mrs. Waspish, another salesclerk, came through the aisle with another young woman. Mona wouldn’t have approved of her either. Mrs. Waspish was rather stern, her reddish hair added to her fiery face. She was a bit larger than Mrs. Birdie, but both shared the same age—somewhere in their fifties, but had contrasting temperaments.

Normally, Marigold would have hired only young salesclerks, but Mrs. Waspish and Mrs. Birdie had proven themselves to be valuable. The other salesclerks were in their twenties, older than Marigold, except for Stony who was closer to Marigold’s age.

This had been Mona’s dream and it was prospering under Marigold’s guidance. Though, Marigold wish things at home were as pleasant as the shop. Mona was seven months pregnant and struggled with the changes. Marigold worried about Mona’s state of mind and wondered when the baby was born that maybe Mona would return to her good humor.

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